Old and Crusty
by Gingeh
Summary: I cleared my throat, and the area became silent. "When I was much younger, I worked under a man who had the power to control fire with the snap of his fingers." A collective 'ooh' came from the children gathered, and I chuckled. -Royai-


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**Old and Crusty**_  
A Fullmetal Alchemist fanfic  
By Gingeh, who owns nothing but the various items on the floor of her bedroom - she'd say she owned her bedroom floor too, but she can't see it, so she's not sure it's still there_

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I watched from my corner in front of the fireplace as couple after couple walked through the doorway. I knew most of them, though they certainly looked different in formalwear. And as I knew them, most knew me, and would come over to greet me and make small talk, before abandoning me for more amusing partiers. I smiled to myself. I knew I wasn't popular. I was old and crusty, and had no interest in anything they had to say.

But the children liked me, and gathered around me now was a small collection of them, chattering happily. I liked them, too. Children are innocent, with none of the wiles of their parents. Their laughter is always real.

"Uncle Havoc!" Henry, a small boy with chestnut hair that was _always_ tousled, much to his mother's dismay, tugged on my pant leg. "Uncle Havoc, tell a story!"

I chuckled and ruffled Henry's hair, which earned me a glare from the boy's mother, who was watching suspiciously from across the hall. "You've heard all my stories by now, surely."

"No, no!" Now the others were interested and had joined in the pleading. "You _have_ to have at least _one_ more! Tell it, Uncle Havoc!"

"All right, all right, let me think…"

"Tell one about the colonel and the lieutenant!" That was Lisa, now she was tugging on my _other_ pant leg, looking up at me with her big brown eyes. "You left off last time!"

"Oh, you don't want to hear about _them_ again, do you?"

"Yes, we do!" they all chorused, and I shook my head, smiling.

"Fine, then, if that's what you want…" I cleared my throat, took a deep breath, and began.

"When I was younger, about the age of your parents or a little less, I worked under a colonel who had the power to control fire with a snap of his fingers."

A collective 'oooooh' came from the children, and I had to grin.

"He was the Flame Alchemist, known to be almost unbeatable. He was a huge flirt, and a lazy ass, but he had big dreams. He wanted to become Fuhrer – he claimed it was so he could change the female uniform to a mini skirt, but we all sensed it was more then that. He wanted to do great things for our country - but he couldn't do it alone. He needed a team, to support him in the rain. He and his alchemy were useless in the rain, you know, as his lieutenant was fond of reminding him and he was fond of forgetting.

"Ah, his lieutenant. She was female, which, in the military, was revolutionary back then. She had to work harder then anyone else to earn her place, go through impossible trials and endure endless gossip. But eventually, after many years, she got the respect she deserved. She was the perfect soldier, emotionless, and she knew every rule in the book and followed it to the letter. But she was unshakably loyal to no one but her colonel - many times, I saw her put his life ahead of her own. She terrorized all of us in the office, slackers that we were. You see, she was known far and wide as the best sniper in the military and you didn't make her mad, or else she'd shoot the ground out from under you. I learned that the hard way, unfortunately.

"She and the colonel were very close, although sometimes it was hard to tell from the way they acted. But we who worked with them learned to read between the lines, and pretty soon we'd figured it out. They were in love."

"Aww…" breathed Lisa, while Henry, and most of the other boys gathered, mimed barfing.

"But for some reason, they weren't together. Maybe it was because of restrictions against coworkers having a relationship. Maybe they were afraid she'd be used against him, for he had many enemies. Or maybe they were just afraid to admit it to each other. I never found out the truth. But for whatever reason, they were merely coworkers.

"Now eventually, the rest of us in the office learned how to use their relationship – or lack thereof – to our advantage. Or, at least, I did. And here's where the story really begins."

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My mouth twitched. It was yet another normal, boring day in the office. And I desperately needed to smoke. But Hawkeye would kill me if I so much as_ considered_ smoking in her – I mean Mustang's - office. …Oh, who am I kidding, it's her office.

But I didn't quite dare to leave the room when I hadn't done any paperwork yet, because she'd kill me for that too. But how could I concentrate on reading and signing when my lungs ached so badly? It was a vicious cycle.

Maybe she'd leave soon. But why would she leave? I pondered this for a second. Well, she'd have to leave the room when the colonel had signed enough papers, so she could deliver them, right?

I chanced a glance towards Mustang, only to find him trying to balance his pen on his nose, with a very, very, very small stack of finished paperwork beside him. Hawkeye looked up, the pen fell off his nose and into his hand, and he proceeded to look industrious. She looked away, and the pen went back to balancing. Another cycle. Great.

Maybe I could distract her somehow…but that would be difficult. After all, this _was _Hawkeye. She was never distracted. Besides, if _I _was the one doing the distracting, it'd be hard to sneak away. Hmmm…maybe I needed someone to do the distracting _for _me. And by 'someone', I mean the only person capable of diverting First Lieutenant Hawkeye's attention. Roy Mustang.

But how? How could I get him to distract her? It would have to be done without his knowledge, because the girlfriend-stealing bastard would never help me on his own. He'd have to think he was doing it for his own benefit, or not realize he was doing it at all. I rather liked the latter. It made me feel like I was finally putting one over the colonel.

So, the plan was to make him distract her without letting him _or _her realize that he was being a distraction. Wow, that sounded confusing.

Now, what would be the best way to achieve this?

"This would be a great time for Fullmetal and his brother to come bursting in here," I mumbled.

"What was that, Lieutenant Havoc?"

I abruptly jerked my head up to find Hawkeye looking at me, hand resting casually on her holster. I gulped. "Nothing!"

She still looked slightly suspicious, but she returned to signing her papers. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

That was close. Now, back to the problem. Since Ed and Al were currently on the other side of the country, it was unlikely they'd be here anytime soon, which ruled out that plan. The next best option would probably be something to do with their relationship. They always got flustered – and _distracted – _whenever anyone mentioned that. I resisted the urge to grin.

But how would I bring it up? _I_ couldn't say anything, that would draw too much attention. That meant I'd have to incorporate a new party. Someone too naïve and innocent to realize he's being manipulated. Someone like Fuery.

I chuckled manically, earning another myself yet another glare from Hawkeye. Ah, Fuery. Sometimes that boy is downright useful.

I scribbled a quick note, stopping every so often to silently compliment my genius. As I scrawled the last word, I read it over.

_Fuery –_

_Ask the colonel whether Elizabeth likes daisies or roses better._

It was at times like this I was grateful I'd volunteered to apartment-sit for Hawkeye that one time. Her mail has many interesting tidbits. Like her first name. I was willing to bet the colonel knew it, but I was sure Fuery didn't. I am such a genius.

I carefully folded the note into an airplane and, when I was _sure_ no one was looking, sent it soaring over to Fuery's desk. It settled atop all his paperwork, and I settled down to wait for the fireworks to begin.

It didn't take long.

"Um…sir?" Fuery stood in front of the colonel's desk, looking nervous and crumpling and uncrumpling the note in his hands.

"Yes?" Mustang looked up from trying to spin the pen on his nose, and the pen fell with a clatter to the floor. This, in turn, made Hawkeye look up. Perfect. All was going according to plan.

"Um…d-does she like daisies or roses better?"

I nearly face-palmed. _C'mon Fuery, 'Elizabeth!' Out with it! _

"Does who like daisies or roses, Fuery?" The colonel looked interested now (Hawkeye just looked annoyed). "Martha? Jane? Ellen? Mary? Tina? Or your mother, perhaps? You have to be more specific, Sergeant."

"No, not any of those…" Fuery squinted at the paper. Is my handwriting really that illegible? "I think it's someone named…Elyssabenn?

Hawkeye froze. I _saw_ her freeze. Her eyes moved from my note, to Mustang's face (which looked uncomprehending), and then back again.

Perfect. Now if Fuery could just pronounce the stupid name right, I could…

"No, wait, it says Elizabeth! I see it now!"

…Go!

I carefully slid my chair backwards, stood, and began inching my way along the wall towards the door. With fate hating me as it does (or maybe Hawkeye just had a say in the seating arrangements), my desk was situated about as far from the door as was possible in this room.

"Elizabeth?!" A chanced a glance at Mustang's face. It was priceless. Heck, even if I got caught right now, this plan would still have been completely worth it. Not that I was going to get caught. I took a few more careful steps towards the door.

"Yes, that's what it says!" Fuery beamed, simpleton that he was.

"Give me that!" Hawkeye barked, rising from her desk and stalking towards the sergeant. He seemed to understand that his life was in peril and stopped smiling. When the lieutenant reached him she snatched the paper out of his hands. He scurried back to his desk, looking frightened and very confused.

As she held the paper up to her face to scan, I suddenly remembered that Hawkeye could probably analyze the handwriting on my note.

I ran.

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The kids all burst out laughing. I grumbled a little bit, but couldn't help smiling. "All right, all right, it's funny. I get it."

Lisa was the first to regain her breath. "So," she said, still panting a little and trying to muffle the occasional giggle, "What happened?"

I scowled at the memory. "I'd really rather not go into it. Let's just say it was painful, and involved a lot of gunpowder."

That set them off again – Henry in particular was practically howling with laughter. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Shove it, would you?"

They began to quiet down, and I noticed more then a few of their parents eying me sternly. It was about time to wrap this up, then. "That's more then enough stories for today. Scoot, you lot – go mingle and all that. All this energy isn't good for someone as old as I am."

There were grumbles, but they knew I was done for the night. They scattered back to their various guardians, and I was alone again, in my chair in front of the fireplace.

I stared into the flames, and for a moment I swear I saw faces – one with a pistol and a pair of stern, red-brown eyes, another with a black mop of hair and a smirk. I saluted smartly, and they were gone.

I sighed, leaned back in my seat, and thought of what it would have been like if all of team Mustang had lived to be old and crusty.

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_Owari_

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_**Author's Note:**_

I really hoped you liked this. It's my first try at writing in first person POV – if you have any suggestions or found any errors, _please_ let me know. I think I did alright, but like I said, this is my first try at writing in this style, and I'd hugely appreciate any suggestions you might have for me.

BY THE WAY, I have a new poll up on my profile. You see, I have a theory: If I just focus on one 'fic, I'll be able to get stories out faster and, thus, have another story out before April is over. The problem is, _which one?_ That's where you guys come in! So make sure to vote, okay?

As always, please, _please_ review. I'd try threatening you with fire, or monkeys, or missles like usual, but I really don't know how I'd be able to get any of those through the computer screen (and besides, it's really not very nice to threaten people. Book of Manners, section three, paragraph nine: To threaten is to die). So, I'm just going to settle with asking you - which I've already done! Look at me, all ahead of schedule! _-grins-_

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